The Weaving of Male Patterns

They come into your world,

shyly... in sly intent.

A wolf in the sheep with sweet talk

and sensitivity...

Gaily you step into the wild

seeking attention and security-

and a best friend who won't stab you in the back.

You do the dance of the feline

to sharp pricked ears and glowing eyes...

and in the womanly wile

and sacred sacrifice,

you tend to the mending of ways,

sowing of pretty little seeds,

dusting of the shadows in corners,

to realize your ill-fated reasoning...

the wolf sits

                       you stand

he waits

                you suppose

he sleeps

                  you dream...

he hunts as you gather.

He will be a friend

who stabs you in the heart.